Anything's Worth a Try
by 14karatgold
Summary: Drabbles from Jon’s POV at Fort Drell. For some reason, I like to do stuff from Jon’s POV. No one really knows what he’s thinking during the books, do they? Spoilers for ITHOTG.
1. Chapter 1

Anything's Worth a Try

Rated T for simply no reason other than that's just what I wanted to rate it as.

Disclaimer: Once again, I do NOT own anything written by Tamora Pierce.

Summary: Drabbles from Jon's POV at Fort Drell. For some reason, I like to do stuff from Jon's POV. No one really knows what he's thinking during the books, do they? Spoilers for ITHOTG.

Most of the speech is direct from the books.

I actually wrote this a while ago and just decided to put it on here for you to read! Enjoy! Oh, and R&R.

AND it's a _little_ OOC... Not the quotes, the unquoted parts. Just FYI.

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"You're dead on your feet. Why didn't you stop?" Jon asked tearing his eyes off the road for a moment to gaze down at his exhausted squire seated in front of him.

"They needed help," he heard her rasp, barely audible over the clapping of Darkness' hooves on the road. Fearing she might fall, he secured his arm more tightly around her waist. She allowed herself to fall back into him. He suddenly felt just as much at peace as his squire, Alanna, did at that moment. As she drifted slowly to sleep using his chest as a pillow. "Why did you have to go there in the first place?"

"I wasn't useful where I was," she muttered. Though he couldn't see her, it was clear to him that her eyes were closed as she let out a deep sigh of contentment.

"Must you always be useful," he asked, unable to stop his tone. She could have died of overexertion, and that for some reason made him worried and angry. He had never felt that way towards his squire before, and it scared him. His heartbeat began to skip faster and faster as she wriggled closer to him, though that was near impossible. Instinctively, he tightened his hold around her, hugging her to him.

"Hm?" she said groggily.

"I _said_, must you always be useful?" he repeated, this time taking the snap out of his voice. He was grateful she hadn't heard him the first time.

"Yes," was her simple reply.

Changing the subject a little as if hoping to keep her awake, at least for a moment or two, he said, "Perhaps I could make myself useful there too, instead of attending a lot of meetings where Roger makes the decisions and never asks how I feel. Think it's worth a try?"

She turned her head a little and it fit like a glove right underneath his chin. It was as if they were made to sit like that together. Jon let out a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment taking in the dark surroundings and the comfort he felt just being here, like this, with Alanna. This was much better than being with Delia who was always pushing him to do this thing and that for her. Alanna just let him do as he wished, but if she deeply disagreed with it, she made sure to let him know. That's what he loved about her. Wait… loved?

Suddenly, she shot up, ruining the mood, much to Jon's unexplainable displeasure. "Now you listen to me, you prissy animal—!" she cursed. Jon had to force down a smirk. That was one of the other things he— there was that word 'loved' again— about her: her temper. She was more like a wild fire than a squire in that respect.


	2. Chapter 2

There was the sound of someone retching behind the tent. It sounded as though whoever was doing it was trying to be quiet about it. Smiling sadly, there was only one person he knew that would bother with that. He raced out of the tent and found a certain redhead doubled over and vomiting with a vengeance. He rushed over to her; he gently pulled her hair out of her face with one hand, and steadied her with the other over her forehead.

Despite the interrupting sound of a heaving stomach, in her presence, he felt that odd comfort again. In the conversation that insured afterward about sissies and throwing up, he realized love number three on his list was her pride. That pride of hers made his look like nothing. He still was clueless as to what made him feel all of this suddenly.


	3. Chapter 3

He watched her give strict orders to her cat and followed it with his eyes as it trotted away, tail held high. "I take it you told Faithful to stay out of the fighting," he asked as she approached him.

She checked the cinches on Darkness' saddle as she replied, "He may even listen to me for once." He gripped her shoulder and waited for purple eyes to meet his own as she stopped what she was doing immediately.

"I guess I can't tell you the same, can I?" he whispered. Any louder and she would hear his voice breaking. What was wrong with him? He knew, better than anyone else, that she could take care of herself.

"The biggest attack this summer, and I'm supposed to hide in my tent?" she asked, grinning whether she knew it or not. "And me, _your_ squire. Are you out of your mind?"

The trumpets sounded, but Jon barely heard them. He felt his eyes burning. What would he do if she died? It wasn't like they were married or anything, but he didn't think he could go on in life without his squire and best friend. "Against _one _warrior, I can't worry about you. You've proved you can handle yourself. But against a whole _army—"_ she cut him off by holding her hand over his in a slightly more intimate gesture than Jon thought she had intended.

"I have my duty, Highness. And this is _my_ home too. I'm trained to defend it, and defend it I will." There was a tone of finality in her voice that forced Jon to accept that she was _not _going to let this one go.

He simply sighed as he slid his helmet over his head and swung his leg over Darkness' back. "You know where to find me when you're armed," he said finally, not looking at her as he urged Darkness out, blinking back tears as he went. He was glad no one could see his face through the helmet, for he would have shamed most of the men.


	4. Chapter 4

He barely glimpsed his squire joining the battle soon after him. Within seconds she was in the thick of it, charging down enemies whenever they dared to approach her. She was angry to the limit, and Jon could tell. Just then as she was urging others on, a knight crept up behind her. "Alan! The knight!" Jon screamed. Just in time, she whipped around and blocked a blow with her shield. Jon didn't stop to think what would've happened if he had not seen that as he did.

He made his way towards her as she disarmed and killed yet another Tusaine knight. He smirked at the fact that she, a squire, had just killed three, most likely very well trained, knights in a row. His smirk widened slightly at her ruthlessness and he forced a path to her side.

As he felt safe within this ring of his army, Alanna apparently did not. She looked around before her eyes locked in on a spot some twenty feet above them. Without warning, she pushed herself into him and he fell out of his saddle. In his moment of surprise, he heard what she had done that for: an arrowhead had crashed with a sharp 'TING!' against his shield. It was only fair, he had saved her life, and she his, but he couldn't help being fearful that that arrow could have taken her life instead if one variable had gone awry.

She righted herself as Myles helped Jon to do the same. "Thanks, you—" but he was cut off by a horn announcing reinforcements. Soon afterward, they had pushed the Tusaine line back into the wood.


	5. Chapter 5

As they reached camp, he looked everywhere for his most likely exhausted friend, but she was nowhere to be seen.

After hours of fretting, a few of the men came into view carrying a stretcher holding a fire-haired someone, closely followed by a small black cat. He prayed to Mithros and the Great Mother Goddess that she was alive, yet if she was, her breathing was very shallow indeed and she was ever so pale, but still glowing slightly with a pale purple flame. He followed the stretcher into the healer's tent and waited for a moment as Duke Baird worked.

"Yes, Highness, he's alive," he said, quickly, reading Jon's thoughts, "but he will be asleep for some time. Would you care to look after him?"

"I would, thank you."

He stroked Alanna's ripped open arm gently as it gushed more blood than Jon thought she had in her body and felt her pain soak into him through his fingers as he winced. That must have been the wound from the first knight, the one who shattered her shield. He quickly bound the wound, taking as much care as he could to not wake her, but still binding it tightly.

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He waited by her bedside for three days, and a good three days it had been to wait. The sun was shining through the whole thing and there had been no skirmishes for a while. Tusaine was probably recouping from their shocking losses.

He was in a book as her eyes fluttered open. He had been reading the same line in the book for a half an hour and had finally decided to give up. She gently poked her thickly bound arm and looked up at him. "I fixed it myself," he said as he put down the book. "I didn't think you wanted Duke Baird getting that close to you, not while you were unconscious. One of the big muscles in your arm was cut, by the way. It'll take a while to heal, even with the Gift. You're having a bad year with muscles and bones." He was clearly glad that she was awake, a little too glad, he thought, but he shoved the thought away. She smiled weakly.

"Thanks. Were you the one that found me?"

"Actually, Faithful did. You know, that cat's more intelligent than most people."

After a moment of silence, she screeched, "Three days! That's not possible!"

They talked quietly for a few moments before Jon felt terrible about burdening all his problems on her already and it hadn't even been five minutes.

He gripped her hand tightly and added, "Mithros, I'm glad you're alright."

"Thank you for taking care of me, Jon," she said as she squeezed it.

Then he got the urge to do something both very strange and very strange _looking _if someone decided to come in right at that moment, but he decided to risk it. He brushed some hair out of her face with his free hand, treating her as if she was a delicate piece of glass that would break if he pressed too hard. He was very close to her face now and he noticed she had stopped breathing. _What the hell, _he thought, _didn't she say that anything's worth a try?_

Still treating her like a glass doll, he kissed her gently, but passionately, spilling all of his thoughts over the past week of her into that one kiss. She felt it too; every emotion, the reason for every comforting touch he had given her, and the reason for his sudden protectiveness all in that one kiss. He felt her give in to him as he could almost feel her echoing his thought that anything is indeed worth a try.

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THE END!! That was fun to write, even though I didn't have to think very hard to write it, but hey! That's the good part! review por favor!

Oh, and those of you wondering if I'm going to update on the Rose, just to tell you, ideas are slowly coming into writable (yes, I know that's not a word) form, so you'll just have to wait a little longer, but I will update.

Cheers!

kt


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